


Stranger Places

by redhandsredribbons



Series: Other Paths [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bad Jokes, Bathing/Washing, Canon Queer Character of Color, Consensual Kink, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Families of Choice, Female Hawke of Color, Friendship, Porn with Feelings, Purple Hawke, Romantic Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Watersports, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhandsredribbons/pseuds/redhandsredribbons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Fenris grunts in frustration. “You’re making this difficult,” he grumbles.</em>
</p><p>  <em>She laughs, loud. “Too easy, too easy..." Hawke shakes her head. "Okay, I'm saying it anyway. Ahem. Shall we say I'm making this ‘hard’?”</em></p><p>Fenris and Hawke explore a new way for him to claim her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger Places

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Porpentine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886267) by [redhandsredribbons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhandsredribbons/pseuds/redhandsredribbons). 



> Set vaguely after DA2. No DA:I spoilers. 
> 
> **Warnings** for references to past slavery and its emotional repercussions, explicit consensual sex, consensual BDSM references, consensual watersports, unrelated references to alcohol, mentions of unrelated racialized sexism/sexual harassment (from strangers at a bar).

When Fenris rises from the warm space against Hawke's back, Hawke grunts into her pillow, then yawns. She blinks up at Fenris, the red makeup around her eyes smudged on the pillowcase.

"No fair," she murmurs. "I'm chilly."

Fenris is grateful that it has been a long while since the night he once fled and stayed away. No worry now crosses Hawke's face, only a sleepy grin. He can't help but smirk back at her. "A blanket should suffice in my absence."

"Oh, I don't know." Hawke sits up in bed. "Are you headed across Thedas or just downstairs?" 

"I have to piss," Fenris says, jerking his shoulders in an awkward shrug. "I thought I wouldn't share your chamberpot but go outside instead." The idea of a servant, even one as cheery as Bodhan, cleaning up after Fenris' most base functions is... not a comfortable one.

Hawke doesn't press the issue, but apparently has little concern for pedestrians, as she says, "Well, just go out the window." This statement doesn't startle at all compared to her next, however: "Or just do it on me since you want to claim me anyway." She gives him a cheeky smile.

Hawke is joking. Fenris knows she's joking.

Not about the claiming. They've spoken of his desire to wield power over her in their most intimate moments, of her incomprehensible but wonderful eagerness for him to do so. They've even practiced such things a little so far, his hands on her wrists, his teeth on her flesh.

But about piss, she's joking.

Yet knowing this is not enough to stop the idea from taking root in Fenris' mind. Marking Hawke in such a way? He'd never considered it, but...

" _Oh_ ," Hawke says.

She gazes at him in realization, and sounds as breathless as Fenris suddenly feels. "Oh, yes, Fenris, do you want to? I swear I won't tell Isabela, she'd never shut up, but--"

"Another time, perhaps," is all Fenris can manage.

*

Fenris has a habit, it seems, of leaving Hawke's intimate suggestions unanswered, then barging in on her when his desire overcomes his shame.

Fenris drives himself mad and brings himself to completion in countless odd, private moments, thinking of her simple offer. Then, much later, after Kirkwall, when Fenris finds Hawke alone in their enclosed courtyard, when he feels a once-mundane nagging twinge in his abdomen, Fenris stalks toward her with reckless purpose.

“Hawke,” he begins. He stands over her, because he is tall for an elf and she short for a human. She is ever joyously upsetting the balances that have long held him in places lacking power. “I will..."

Even through the wanting of this, the words nearly fail Fenris. They seem comical at best, degrading at worst. But he reminds himself of the intent behind the act Hawke proposed: not a humiliation. A play of power in his hands.

"I will need to piss soon," Fenris says.

Hawke doesn't miss a thing. No confusion lights her face at his seemingly benign declaration. Here is the proof that she has not forgotten either. Her dark eyes gleam.

"Now's as good a time and place as any," Hawke says. "Don't you think?"

He answers with a hard kiss, then sees that she meant that quite literally. When Fenris pulls back, Hawke drops herself down to kneel on the stone-tiled ground, which he supposes is easily cleaned enough. Hawke tugs at her clothes in a quick spree of motions, until she flings them away.

She grins and holds out her arms, the dark nipples of her small breasts hard, gooseflesh spattering the curves and rolls of her brown hips, belly, thighs.

"I'm ready!" she announces.

Near-paranoid though there is no one here but the two of them, Fenris glances around before tugging open his leathers and baring himself in front of Hawke, taking his cock in hand.

Every time he looks _away_ from Hawke to concentrate on letting go, on actually doing this, years and years of being a bodyguard clench his muscles. For so long, Fenris was denied the right to enact any functions a body needs until such a time as it was convenient-- namely, a long, achingly long time after the urge struck. Now, it feels near-impossible that he will ever piss again, much less now.

Every time he looks _at_ Hawke, trying to unravel his own control and see her eagerness, arousal jolts through him, making even more unlikely their intended scenario will ever happen.

They wait together for several quiet moments as Fenris grimaces and fights against his body, and Hawke holds still in smiling anticipation. Fenris tries breathing steadily, then switches tack and strains. No success. And with this erection, no success for a long while.

Fenris grunts in frustration. “You’re making this difficult,” he grumbles.

She laughs, loud. “Too easy, too easy..." Hawke shakes her head. "Okay, I'm saying it anyway. Ahem. Shall we say I'm making this _‘hard’_?”

Fenris snorts a laugh despite himself, despite feeling that he is failing to grant her request and that this somehow reflects more poorly on him than a mere function of bodily training should. He dismisses the thought. She does not look disappointed.

“We can help you with that,” she says, quieter and more sensual.

Hawke scoots closer on her knees, and touches the hand that Fenris holds himself with, looking up into his eyes with a nod.

Fenris puts a palm on the side of Hawke's face, and gazes at her, as he frowns in concentration and tugs at himself, speeding, jaw clenching tense. Sooner than he expects, he finds release, with a harsh breath out and Hawke's name on his lips, coming half over her shoulder onto the floor, and the rest, a dab of his seed grazing her cheek. She grins at this, and rests back, still kneeling, looking up at him, waiting once more.

"Any better?" she asks.

Fenris recovers his senses and breath, then makes a noncommittal noise. Certainly the urge is stronger and he won't be hard again quite yet.

He shifts on his feet again and again, far less patient than Hawke looks. Fenris throws his head back, grimacing with effort, then tries relaxing again. He locks then unlocks his knees. Breathes. Waits.

Then suddenly and _finally_ , letting a staggered breath out, standing over her and still holding himself, Fenris feels a drop-tug in his abdomen, a pinch at the head of his cock where the stream finally escapes. At first, it is slight, a spurt his body clenches against and tries to prevent.

With another breath out, as he wills himself to allow this, the stream grows stronger.

Fenris pisses, the base of Hawke's neck and below his careful target.

It is better than he would have expected, even as taken with the concept as he is. The physical sensation is far beyond what he's anticipated. Fenris closes his eyes, feeling much like he’s coming a second time, save longer, more steady, more intense, rushing through the inside of his still-sensitive cock with a sensation that makes his head spin.

A noise escapes Fenris at the feeling, and he startles himself. Anxiousness surges inside him as a full awareness of the circumstances arises.

 _Fasta vass_ , what is he _doing?_

His eyes fly open again, looking to Hawke's own expression for guidance.

"Hawke, is this--" Fenris begins, suddenly finding himself panicked. What if Hawke was only jesting? Or, more likely, she meant it, but now finds herself disgusted, and--

But no.

Hawke's expression and gestures are unmistakable. She beams and cups her hands to catch the flow escaping him, then lets her palms fall open.

“It's almost _scalding_ ,” she murmurs, grinning in awe, gazing at the liquid running out between her fingers and against her body, gazing at his cock, gazing at his face. “I didn't know the inside of you was so hot.”

She touches her hands over herself, playing with the slick spreading over her, a look of wonder in her expression, her pupils enormous and dark. Her body shines with wetness, a small clear pool lingering where her kneeling thighs press together then spilling over and trickling down again. The imperfect triangle of thick black curls between her legs soaks up dampness and glistens with droplets. Hawke embraces, finds joy in, this unmistakable act of base claiming.

And Fenris?

Fenris can barely finish squeezing out a few last hisses of wet before he’s too hard to piss again. He surges forward, not caring as his bare feet and the arch straps of his leggings meet with a warm puddle.

He pulls Hawke bodily to her feet as she gasps and grasps for him eagerly. Fenris tugs her slippery, bitter salt-smelling body up against him, then backs her against the wall, as her legs come up to wrap around him, clinging and sliding against his waist. With his fingers, he finds Hawke ready and slick between her legs from far more than his piss. Fenris thrusts her down onto his cock, her hands clutching his shoulders as he sets a speeding rhythm and takes her against the wall.

"Fenris," Hawke moans out, her breaths shaky and her teeth bared in a flash of a smile.

“You’re mine,” Fenris mutters.

He barely has a moment to slow his hips with a pang of guilt-- even though they spoke of such things, such words, even though she agreed each time they spoke-- that he dare make such a claim, to one such as Hawke, from he who was a--

"Yours,” Hawke sighs, instantly, “Fenris, Fenris, I’m yours, I belong to you,” her body slick, her face blissful, as if this lowliest part of him, a part his own body rejects, is something utterly cherished. She accepts him in entirety.

Foregoing rhythm of hips or other thought at all, Fenris, shaking, shoves Hawke harder against the wall, presses his face to her neck, arches his back in a final thrust, releases a wrecked groan, and comes.

When he's done gasping madly, Hawke covering his face in kisses, Fenris lowers her back down to her feet, his legs trembling from the effort of holding her up. She, too, is unsteady.

Fenris looks at her, embarrassed again now that his orgasm is done. Hawke is dripping and sticky, the splotch of his seed still on her cheek from earlier, more now escaping down the inside of her thigh from a moment past.

Fenris grimaces. “May I at least bathe you?”

Hawke blinks up at him with false innocence masking a wild laugh. Fenris knows he's set himself up, and a laugh rises in his own chest.

“Didn't you just?” Hawke asks sweetly, before cackling at her own joke.

*

While Hawke waits in the empty tub, languid and unperturbed by the cooling mess covering her, Fenris heats water and tidies the floor they left behind.

Then he returns to Hawke, fills the bath, and gently cleans her.

It is not servitude. It is gratitude.

He guides Hawke's hand under the water in circles between her legs, until her grin goes softer and her eyelids tighter. She shudders out her own climax, then relaxes again with a peaceful sigh. Fenris strips the remainder of his own clothes, and joins her in the tub, holding her against him as the water sloshes in gentle waves, her head resting back against his chest.

When they are both clean, and the water near cold, he drains the tub, and dries them both off in the same thick cloth. Hawke leans heavily against Fenris, her fingers gentle as a whisper plucking absently along his bare collarbones.

Hawke yawns. "Mm," she says, still leaning, eyes closed. "Told you I'd take you to stranger places yet.”

"True to your word," Fenris says, smiling against her forehead.

"Think of the scandal," she murmurs. "Bela would swoon with happiness."

"She would," he agrees. Steadying Hawke, he guides her to bed.

"Fenris?" she asks, eyes still closed, when she's lying down and he has yet to join her. One of her hands wiggles in a sluggish effort to seek him out.

"I am here, Hawke," Fenris says, "and I am yours."

He sinks down into the bed next to her, pulling her to him and pulling the blankets over both of them. She settles in against him under the covers, making a little satisfied noise at the contact of their skin.

"No," Hawke says, frowning faintly, her voice slurred and quiet with near-sleep. "Not in real... instead of mine, we're both... um... you're... you. I'm me. Each other? Y'know? And we both... thingy."

Fenris understands and values the intent behind her attempt. "Go to sleep, Hawke," Fenris says.

She does. He joins her there.

*

Lecherous gazes and comments float toward their table in the tavern. While most seem directed at Isabela, Fenris catches a few that drift to Hawke in the afterthought of Isabela's flashed daggers.

Hawke seems determined to ignore most of the offenders, but Fenris finds himself glaring. He drapes a gauntleted arm around Hawke's back.

"Careful, Hawke," Isabela jokes, giving her a wink. "The way he's guarding his territory, he'll want to piss on you next."

In perhaps the least wise decision Fenris has ever made, he looks to Hawke on impulse. She is red-faced and immediately catches Fenris' glance, too.

Fenris looks away before his own face can flush.

It is then that Isabela knows. Fenris sees it dawn across her face.

"Isabela," Fenris warns, but there's no stopping her. It is far too late.

He and Hawke are doomed.

Isabela lets out a bloodcurdling scream of delight, and turns to Hawke, shrieking, _"NAUGHTY PUPPY WET ON YOU?"_

Hawke covers her face with her hands, though Fenris can see her grinning helplessly behind them.

"I am not a _dog_ , Isabela," Fenris snaps. "And private matters should remain--"

"Hey Varric!" Isabela calls out across the tavern.

"Silence, woman!" Fenris hisses, but Isabela ignores him.

"Fenris pissed on Hawke!" Isabela shouts. "And she--" Isabela pauses, inspects Hawke's expression as if to make sure, then grins anew and even wider. "And she liked it!"

Varric saunters back to the table, carrying a tray of drinks. "Congrats!" he says, nonplussed, and sets the drinks down.

"Thanks," Hawke says, her voice wobbly behind her palm with what appears to be a combination of mortification and hilarity.

Isabela and Varric are _infuriating_. Even more so as the evening progresses, for they never lose interest in the subject. Fenris tolerates endless jokes, including the barely suppressed laughter in Isabela's eyes when she brings him extra drink refills "just in case."

Yet, even so.

It is good to be free among friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I almost tagged this fic "Stream of Consciousness" because that's my writing style, but the terrible accidental pun was too much for me.
> 
> I tried and tried to fit these scenes into my upcoming Hawke adventure fic for the [Old Gods series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/96251) (and the 2015 Dragon Age Big Bang). Alas, they just didn't mesh with the flow (once again, no pun intended) of the overall story. Despite this, [Joaquina Hawke](http://quequieresmrmorden.tumblr.com/tagged/joaquina+hawke) is indeed my canon Hawke, and this fic is accurate to her dynamic with Fenris.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave questions, comments, and/or critiques, and I'll make sure to get back to you.


End file.
